


A Coffee of Power

by Lodke



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, Coffee Shop, College, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2020-02-27 19:04:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18745213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lodke/pseuds/Lodke
Summary: Another time, another place, the same souls breathe out new stories.Part I: Freshman YearPart II: ?





	1. Hot Brown Morning Potion

Callum stood at the counter, eyes tracing over the sign he had read so many times before. So many different options, how could you ever pick just one? Vanilla bean, macchiato's, frappe's, there was so much coffee to sample and taste, "I'll have the…" His voice trailed off for the third time in this venture. He hadn't considered the fruit smoothies. Moonberry? That was a new flavor, "What's a moonberr-

 

"You could always order the house special, Callum," Claudia cut him off, leaning on the countertop which prominently featured the logo Callum had helped design, 'Can't Sleep, Won't Sleep' in obnoxious red and black matched with silver and gold, the colors of Katolis University. Her eyes were bored as she watched him, yet again, work towards concluding that he would try the same thing he always got.

 

Callum stood at the counter looking at the menu, unsure of what to order, "I mean…" He hesitated, "Sure."

 

Claudia barked out, "One Hot Brown Morning Potion for Callum!" and began punching keys on the register.

 

From the other side of the bar came a girl's voice, a thick accent coating her words in their warm embrace, "Black Coffee for Cal, comin' up."

 

Callum poked his head curiously around the glass display case. A new face. A girl, no, a young woman, wearing a red plaid skirt over black tights and boots laced up to her knees. Her top a sleeveless t-shirt that revealed hints of her bra without showing anything other than black. Her make-up was just slightly dramatic with two curved lines of purple coming to a point on her ivory cheeks. Violet eyes focused on her task, biting her lower lip in mock focus. Hair died white with red showing at the roots kept in a mess of disorganized braids, that was haphazardly arranged to keep her hair from her face and clipped with a thick hair clip of black plastic.

 

"Order up." white haired woman called, "Sasha your atrocity of whip cream and sugar is ready." Despite her harsh words, they were delivered with a smile as she handed the frappuccino to, he presumed, Sasha. 

 

Callum continued to watch her and asked his old friend, "Who's the new girl?"

 

Claudia, expression anything but entertained, lazily glanced at the new barista, "That's Rayla," She mumbled and then went back to watching the other college students meander by, free from the ties of financial oppression, "Just transferred here from over seas. Here on some scholarship for something I didn't really pay attention."

 

"Cool," Callum said, impressed, then, "I'll see you back at the house tonight."

 

Claudia waved him goodbye without looking at him.

 

He went and tried to grab the black coffee, eyes never leaving the girl with white hair. She kept her focus on cleaning the counter behind the chest high bar where his beverage waited. He watched as she worked, her intent scrubbing causing hypnotic motion of her fly away hairs.

 

"Why don't ye take a picshure," She bit without looking, "It'll last longer."

 

"I-I, uh," Callum stumbled, almost knocking over the coffee in the process and walked away uttering a hurried, "Thank you!" and walked out the double glass doors, joining the rest of the students.

 

By the time he came back to his senses he realized that he had been sitting in his art history class for near thirty minutes and his coffee had gone cold.


	2. Black Coffee

Callum sat with Ezran, Caludia and Soren in the large kitchen waiting for their respective fathers to join them. The large mahogony table cut from a large, unfinished piece of wood and lacquered to a shine separated each of them. It was large and oblong enough to be a relative of a rectangle, but the natural cuts and slants of the shape made it a distant relation. The empty place setting before Callum was pushed back across the surface as he reviewed his notes from the day with highlighter and red pen, making adjustments, interpreting foot notes, and just making sure he understood. Ezran had a tablet up in front of him streaming videos of other children playing Fortnite or some damn toy unboxing video. The headphones in his ears blared noise too loud that Callum was sure would some day lead him to being deaf. Claudia herself was going over her marine biology notes every so often making comments to herself. Soren sat at the table swiping left or right as his whim moved him.

 

The silence stretched on, the two studious young adults doing their work, and the others entertaining themselves until finally the voices and footfalls of Harrow, Callum and Ezran's father, and his business partner and long time friend, Viren could be heard. Their tone was interpretable before their words. Anger, hot and ready to burst.

 

"-not have any part of it." Harrow's voice was stern, brooking no nonsense from his business partner.

 

"There is nothing illegal or even questionable from a business ethics stand point." Viren protested.

 

"But from a moral stand point? From a human standpoint?" Harrow challenged.

 

The double doors opened into the large dining room where all four children sat staring at the duo as they entered. Well, three, Ezran didn’t move a muscle from where he sat watching his tablet. The duo looked awkwardly back at one another, then at their gathered children.

 

Harrow spread his arms wide and called out their names, "Soren, Claudia, Callum! What a surprise to have you here."

 

"We do this every Thursday, Mr. King." Soren said in a bored voice, earning a glare from Viren, but a jovial laugh from Harrow.

 

"And I am so happy we do!" Harrow laughed, "Tell me, Callum, have you seen your mother yet?"

 

Callum looked up from his studies, closing the text book which he had scrawled his notes in the margins of, "No, not yet, Mr. King." The formality of Callum's address made the man frown, but it was a fleeting expression, a passing sorrow, one that he had come to expect, if not anticipate.

 

"Well, I'm sure she wouldn't want us to wait for her, no idea what came up at the Hospital." His off handed remark about her work went unnoticed. Callum hadn't seen his mother since before the start of his Freshman semester and it was already nearing Winter Break, Thanksgiving celebrated just a week ago. Finals loomed on the horizon for Soren, Callum, and Claudia, while Ezran who was home schooled by the same matron, Opeli, had no finals to worry about.

 

Soren in his Senior year was as mentally checked out as one could be, studying sports management and athletic training the majority of his work was already done. His finals were few and far between. Claudia and her passion for all things science was doing a combination tract that she had invented herself and had all but been endorsed by the administration. Combination Marine Biology and Chemical Engineering. A bleeding heart for nature since she was young, she wanted to find ways in which people could harness the natural forces of the waters of the world and use that to not only preserve the oceans, seas and all aquatic life, but to push humanity that much further to truly green energy. Callum was studying art, at least, that's what his electives were in. He had come on an academic scholarship, and had used the combination of his passions to study both art and physics. On top of his involvement with the art department, he had already signed up for a number of longitudinal research projects that he hoped panned out to be something interesting. There was a particularly interesting one using magnetic fields for matter and energy field manipulation. 

 

Ezran was only in eighth grade at this point, but the reason he was allowed as much freedom as he was, watching the tablet, was that his homeschooling lessons were already completed. He had been a bit much for the public schools to handle and Harrow and their mother had elected to pull him out of school and have him taught by Opeli. Callum had been much the same, too distractable, but Callum had also been frequently sick as a child and young teen that it had just made more sense. Callum was almost jealous of Ezran in that he was so advanced for his age, a savant level understanding of numbers and risk benefit ratios, but Ezran also found them incredibly boring, so Callum's jealousy was usually short lived. And out of all things, the little King said he wanted to be a Veterinarian, which baffled everyone but Callum who knew his little brother had a way with animals that others didn't.

 

Callum looked under the table to where Ezran's legs kicked inches off the floor and saw the family's faithful basset hound, Bait, snoozing lazily on the hardwood floor. Never far from Ezran who had found him as a puppy several years ago, the already grumpy drooping visage of the hound was the welcome Callum had come to expect from him.

 

Claudia's phone started to vibrate. A message, one after another.

 

"Well I am still glad you all are here!" Harrow said in his rambunctious tone, "I'll get Bea, she should have dinner ready by now and we can get it served." He moved out of the dining area to being searching for Beatrice, the maid that the King family had employed since before Harrow and Sarai had married.

 

"She's not here." Ezran piped in, amazingly having heard his father over the sound screaming through the headphones in his ears. He pulled them out and looked at his father and Viren.

 

"What do you mean she isn't here?" Viren asked, not as patiently as he probably should have.

 

Ezran didn't notice, "Her daughter is sick, I told her to take the time off to care for her."

 

"Of course, of course," Harrow nodded, checking his own phone, "Yes, she messaged me earlier, I remember now."

 

Ever focused on the prize, Soren spoke up, "So, what's for dinner?"

 

"I suppose I'll have to order something," Harrow added ponderously, "What does everyone want, Chinese?"

 

Viren laughed, "You and your obsession with oriental cuisine, it's your favorite thing to eat isn't it." His tone was suggestive. Callum felt queasy, Harrow looked at his children nervously, all of whom seemed to have ignored the remark.

 

He spoke through gritted teeth with a warning glance at Viren, "There are many health benefits to rice and vegetables as long as they are prepared correctly."

 

Ezran interjected, swiping upwards on his tablet, "I ordered pizza, it'll be here-"

 

The doorbell rang.

 

"-soon."

 

Harrow, looking for an escape from this conversation with his colleague needed to break the tension, "I'll go get it."

 

Callum watched as Claudia tapped furiously on her phone. It wasn't a moment before a message was sent and another returned. He could see the crease of her brow furrowing into frustration.

 

Soren had an alert pop up on his phone, a low muted tone of several strings plucked in succession. He took the faux golden plated device from his pocket, raised his eyebrows as he read then spoke up, "I am not really in the mood for pizza, it's not really the healthiest option anyways." He stood and grabbed his leather jacket from where it hung over the back of his chair. He left his bag where it lay, "One of my classmates needs some of my notes for finals, I'll just grab a salad or something on the way."

 

Before Viren or Claudia could raise their voice to stop him, he was already out of the dining room and through the swinging double doors. As he left, Harrow spun with the boxes of pizza, "I guess he won't be joining us either." Harrow set the boxes on the table, "I'll be right back, no point using the nice plates for pizza." He stepped out of the room and Viren took up a chair at the head of the table. They waited in silence for Harrow to return with the paper plates. Callum studying, Ezran watching, Viren sitting, and Claudia texting furiously.

 

In only a few minutes, Harrow returned with the paper plates and somehow had managed to scrounge up a 2 liter of Coca-Cola and two beers as well. He handed one beer to Viren who accepted it graciously, fished his keys out of his pocket and grabbed the bottle opener there. He opened his own beer first and then took Harrow's when he was suddenly interrupted.

 

Claudia slammed her phone on her book, "Fuck." Claudia groaned.

 

"Claudia!" Viren shouted.

 

"It's okay, I've heard it before. It's one of Mom's favorites." Ezran mumbled.

 

Harrow could just stand there holding the pizza boxes confused about everything that was happening before him.

 

"Sorry, Dad. Sorry, Mr. King." Claudia mumbled abashed, "I just got called into work and Soren was my ride. He's probably already gone."

 

Harrow set the pizza boxes down on the table and looked at Claudia, "So you need to go?"

 

She nodded, "Yea." She began packing up her books and notes.

 

"And you need a ride?" Harrow inquired.

 

"Yea, I'll get an Uber." She said between shoving books and papers haphazardly into her bag.

 

"No, no need for that." Harrow looked into the pizza boxes, opening one after the other, "Take, well, take, Ezran what kind of pizzas did you order?"

 

"Chicken, jalapeno, black bean and pineapple." Ezran said simply

 

"This is inedible." His father countered.

 

"Speak for yourself, pops," Ezran snagged a slice and began to munch.

 

Harrow sighed, "Callum, take Claudia back to campus, please. I'd offer for you guys to take a pizza, but these are atrocities to all things pizza."

 

Claudia still grabbed one of the boxes, "I'll eat anything, I'm starving."

 

"Sure thing, Mr. King," Callum added packing up his supplies, "Just, say 'hi' to Mom if you see her."

 

"Of course, Callum," Harrow added, "Now get out of here. I'll see you both next week." His voice faded as Callum walked through the double doors that Soren had disappeared through just moments before, Claudia right behind him, already tapping furiously on her phone.

 

They cut a straight path out of the house into the curving drive and found made their way to Callum's car. He had left it unlocked sitting in the driveway and popped the trunk throwing his bag in, "You want to throw your bag in here?" Callum asked, bored.

 

"Naw, I'll have to run in once we get to Can't Sleep." Claudia answered walking to the passenger side door and taking up residence in the front seat, sliding the pizza box into the footwell.

 

Claudia flipped the mirror down and checked her make-up and hair.

 

"So what happened, anyway?" Callum asked as he dropped into the driver seat and turned the keys over to ignition. He felt the engine rumble alive with a satisfying purr the way it always did. While he waited for an answer he quickly checked the mirrors and dash lights for any alerts.

 

"The new girl is having some trouble with her student visa." Claudia huffed, "Apparently they lost her fingerprints or something over at the embassy and she has to go get printed again."

 

"That sucks," Callum commented, leaving it at that. He shifted the car into D and pulled out of the curved driveway, pausing briefly for the iron gate to recede. When it was open he pulled slowly out into the street and set off towards campus.

 

"You really don't do this car justice, Callum." Claudia jested at him once she was done with her makeup.

 

"I know how fast it goes, no need to prove it every chance I get." He smirked. She had a thing for guys with nice cars, it was one of the reasons she had agreed to go out on a date with him several years ago. She was older, and an old friend, practically a sister, which is who he felt like he was on a date with. At the end they had a good time, but there was no real spark. Just a young guy with a nice car and his good friend. Not one to dwell in the past, "You ready for your finals?"

 

"Is anyone ever?" Claudia asked the rhetorical.

 

"Fair point." Callum nodded.

 

"Oh shut it, I know you're going to do great." Claudia laughed.

 

"I never doubted it." Callum nodded again.

 

Her phone buzzed again, she grabbed it from between her legs by the pink metallic pop-socket and flipped it around. She laughed, "Hah, the nerve of this girl!"

 

"Hm?" Callum was only half paying attention.

 

"Would you mind driving her to meet her coach?" Claudia asked offhandedly.

 

Callum pulled onto campus, taking the meandering roads over to the coffee shop, "The girl from earlier?" His mouth was suddenly dry. He recalled her playful sarcasm and don’t-fuck-with-me air.

 

"Yea, the one that you were caught drooling over." Claudia laughed.

 

"I was not." Callum laughed back, finding it a little less funny. He pulled up out front of the coffee shop sporting the logo he had designed.

 

"Whatever, Cal. Just don't be a creeper and take the nice Scottish girl to meet her coach." She opened her door and got out, taking her bag with her she hopped out, leaving the door open.

 

"Hey!" Callum called after her, "Take this pizza with you! She's going to think I'm deranged!"

 

While dashing in she turned and gave him a thumbs up, "You're golden, buddy." and disappeared through the opaque glass doors that lead to the shop. Callum could see that business was lackluster to say the least.

 

He waited patiently, listening to what was on the radio, which was a whole lot of nothing. He took out his phone and opened Spotify, trying to find something. He heard the doors open again and looked up.

 

He suddenly forgot his phone. Bag slung over her shoulder she stood looking at the few cars on the road, trying to figure out which was her ride. Her plaid skirt did everything to emphasize the tone of her legs which ended in clunky black boots scuffed to hell. Her black leggings were torn at the knee and over the opposing thigh revealing the ivory flesh. Her black sleeveless tee hung loosely over her but now was covered by a too large hoody that hung on her like a shawl, the zipper left undone and hood down. She still wore the black band like choker around her neck and indigo streaks of make-up from eyes that looked like fangs. Her dyed white hair billowed in the breeze of the fall night.

 

"She had to be emo." Callum sighed, feeling his heart flutter a little.

 

Callum opened the car door and stepped out, leaning on the door a little, "Hey, I heard you need a ride?"

 

The transfer student looked around at the sound of his voice and stopped, seeing him, "Black Coffee." She pointed accusingly.

 

Callum chuckled while she looked between him and the car, trying to understand. Callum stood there in a worn denim jacket over a red hoodie, his shaggy unkempt hair that hung over his eyes and an apathetic few days worth of scruff. This juxtaposed with his father's first child, the 1958 Corvette Stingray, electric blue with white silver detailing. His father had loved the classic cars and had restored this one, as well as a few others. Thankfully he had included a few modern updates. Modern braking system, modern security system, modern stereo with blue tooth capabilities, but mocked up to look like the classic car's original radio. It had been his favorite out of all of them, but this one was Callum's now.

 

When Rayla just continued to stare, Callum smirked, "Why don't you take a picture, it'll last longer."

 

"Alright, fancy boy," She sauntered over, "Claudia said you can give me a lift?"

 

Callum gestured to the open door, "Your chariot awaits, m'lady."

 

"Oh god, you're not one of those fedora wearing cheetoh licking nice guys, are ya?"

 

Callum paused, "No. No I am not." He ducked into the car, closing the door behind him as she dropped into the white leather bucket seat, "Fedora's don't look good on me."

 

"They don't look good on anyone." She laughed, closing her own door.

 

"I like fezzes though," Callum mumbled, "Fezzes are cool." He put the car into drive again and asked, "Where are we going?"

 

"I, uh, I need you to take me to the police station," Rayla cleared her throat, "Sheriff's actually."

 

"Okay, Google." Callum spoke up and waited for the tell tale chime, "Directions to the Sheriff's office."

 

The electronic voice came on over the car's speakers, "Head North on Buchanan Drive."

 

"Now you're showing off a little bit." she chastised him playfully.

 

Callum tried not to smile, "Just a little bit."

 

Looking behind them on the street, he pressed the pedal all the way to the floor. The engine roared to life with a monstrous rumble as the as the electric blue car peeled out and set off down Buchanan. Callum listened to her scream in exhilaration as her stomach dropped away behind them, just slightly satisfied with himself.


	3. Damn You Google

 

 

"Okay! Okay! Slow down, you've flexed enough," Rayla laughed next to him in the bucket seat. Enough room between them to fit a third person, regrettably.

  
Callum smiled and laughed along with her, pulling his foot off the pedal and the roar of the refurbished 58 engine settled into a steady purr. Every so often he would look over to see Rayla either looking out the window or looking about the interior with a type of appreciation, almost as though she didn't know what could be safely touched.

 

Callum followed the spoken instructions of the GPS without much notice.

 

"I usually don't do that, I promise," Callum smiled, only briefly looking away from the road.

 

"Is this a pizza down here?" Rayla asked, ignoring his statement. She looked between her knees at the box reading "Ope - Li's" with a cartoon woman holding aloft a pizza box.

 

"Hmm? Yea," Callum answered, looking away from the road for only a moment, "My brother ordered pizza for a family dinner at my parent's house."

 

"Nice! Pineapple & Jalapeno!" Rayla had helped herself to a peek inside the box and was already pulling a slice out. Callum watched her tear into the pizza with abandon, destroying pineapple, cheese, and jalapeno pepper in rapid consecutive bites. She went for a second piece, and quickly after that a third. Callum was amazed as she continued to put the grotesquery of a pizza away. Through a full mouth she mumbled, "The black beans and chicken is an odd choice, but lean protein is always a good idea."

 

"I'm just impressed you ate it." Callum laughed. She continued to eat, grabbing a fourth slice. He would have said something about her just deciding it was okay to eat his food, would have said something about leaving him some, if it wasn't for the fact that he probably wouldn't have eaten it. She made such a satisfied groan as she ate, it was almost lewd.

 

"I take it you were hungry?" Callum flicked the turn signal and waited his turn at the stop light.

 

"Yea," Rayla said, sitting back, staring at the box. Callum could see her eying the box, debating that fifth piece.

 

"Go on," Callum nodded to the box, "I can't do the spicy peppers and pineapple."

 

"Why's that?" Rayla asked, making polite conversation.

 

"I find the combination unsettling." Callum added flatly.

 

"So, something can't be both sweet and hot?" She teased a sickly sweet voice, the overt sexualization obvious.

 

"Pizza is meant to have meat on it, not fruit." Callum's stance on this was firm.

 

"How close-minded!" Rayla gasped, "How can you just turn yourself off to experiencing the world?"

 

"You have arrived." Came the mechanical voice of the Google Maps direction assistant. Callum pulled into the public parking lot of the sheriff's office and led the car to a parking spot.

 

There was a pause as Rayla looked again at the pizza box and then back to Callum, "Thanks for the ride."

 

"Just take the pizza." Callum laughed.

 

"Actually, I was hoping I could eat it when I get back?" Her face twisted in a weak and guilty smile.

 

"Get back?" Callum wondered.

 

"Can I get a ride back to campus too?" Rayla winced.

 

Callum looked at her flatly, staring. His heart skipped a beat. More time with her.

 

Misreading his expression, "Never mind, I can get a ride back from somewhere else, maybe an Uber or something." She trailed off as she started to gather her things and open the door.

 

"Of course." Callum answered, "Of course I can give you a ride."

 

Rayla smiled, almost bashfully, "Thanks, I won't be long. Maybe thirty minutes." And before Callum could say anything else she was out of the car, the door shutting behind her.

 

\-------------------------------------------

 

"No, I mean, I'm out, my friends and sister know. It's just I have never, y'know, had that conversation with my dad. Not since my mom left." Soren admitted guiltily. He looked around the diner, not wanting to meet the icy blue eyes of his raven haired date. He instead focused on his pierced ear and the vertical clip on his helix.

 

"Oh, that's cool man," Cris answered, "I was just wondering, y'know, what kind of situation I am getting myself into. I've already come out to my family and friends, I don't want to have to go through that whole thing again, I don't want to have to tutor somebody through it." Cris reached out and put his hand on Soren's, who merely smiled back at his date.

 

"It shouldn't be a problem," Soren defended himself.

 

"Soren," Cris looked him in the eye, "If you want this to be anything serious, let me know when you have told your dad."

 

Soren sighed heavily, looking the other man in the eye, a pained expression on his face, "It's just that, Dad is so intense, he's scary sometimes."

 

"He's a major business lawyer, if he wasn't a little scary do you think he would be one of the most cut throat closers in the game?" Cris offered, teasing the younger man a little bit.

 

"You talk about him as though you respect him." Soren pouted.

 

"Hey, I may just work in the mail room, but everyone knows your father." Cris defended.

 

Soren felt his phone buzz.

 

"Maybe that's him. You should tell him." Cris jumped on the opportunity, pushing his blonde date.

 

"Just like that? In a text message?" Soren said in disbelief, "That sounds like and AWFUL idea."

 

Cris leaned in and whispered across the diner table, "It'll make your night, I promise." and licked his lips.

 

Soren began to eagerly fish his phone out of his pocket, glancing at the screen as it lit up, "It's not him." The tension in him draining. He didn’t know if it was relief or disappointment, maybe a little of both.

 

"Oh?" Cris asked, his voice taking a jealous edge, "Then who, another boy?"

 

Soren chuckled to himself, hiding the screen, "Wouldn't you like to know." When Cris didn't seem as amused, "It's a boy, but it's my little brother. Kind of. I've known him since we were young, our dad's work together since the start of King Industry."

 

"Oh, and what does the little nuisance want," Cris pouted into his diet cola.

 

Soren typed in the security code, 0-0-0-0-0-0, into his iPhone, and his eyebrows rose, "He want's girl advice."

 

"I thought you said you were out?" Cris dug in deeper, "If you're out, why would he want girl advice, unless this girl is really a boy."

 

"I am. He knows, seriously here, look, " Soren read the message from Callum aloud, " 'I know you're into dudes, but I need help with a girl and you’re the one that makes the most sense'."

 

Cris snatched his phone, "Oh?" he added intrigued, pushing Soren back into his chair, typing out loud, "Why am I the best?"

 

Soren went and looked over Cris's shoulder.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 Soren /Callum

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

Why am I the best?

Because Claudia is bonkers,

Ezran is thirteen with a head full of tits and video games,

Mom will just say wear a condom,

and Mr. King will just talk about the birds and the bees.

 

So you literally don't have anyone better?

 

Plus you are super romantic, but don't want anyone to know it.

C'mon man I need your help!

 

Alright alright, we'll help.

 

We'll?

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

Cris took a selfie of himself licking Soren's face and sent it to Callum

 -------------------------------------------------------

Is that Cris Lorde from the mail room at the office?

 

Hi sweetheart <3!

 

Alright, well she'll be back in a bit, help me!

I love this, it's like queer eye for the nerdy guy.

What does she like? What does she do? What are her hobbies

 

I…I…dont know!?

 

Well find that out first. Did you even talk to her or did you just stare at her chest?

 

I mean, yea, but like, nothing deep.

 

Well Callum, let me give you a tip.

If you want to 'get deep' you need to get deep.

You at least have to show a passing interest in the poor girl.

 

I am interested!

Shit, she's coming back, I'll text you later.

 

\------------------------------------

 

The latch on the door opened and Rayla sat in, immediately going to the pizza box that was a little more towards room temperature now, and took the fifth slice. She ducked in, "That was quicker than expected."

 

"Yea, what did they have to do?" Callum asked, trying to keep the advice from Soren and his new toy in mind.

 

"Oh, just finger print verification, making sure no criminal activity came up for completion of enrollment."

 

"Oh, cool, I guess." Callum nodded. This was not an interesting topic, he wanted to get it to an interesting topic, but his brain seemed stalled, stuck in the search for an interesting topic. Why did he keep thinking interesting topic? Surely

 

"New message from Soren, do you want me to read it?" Google's voice came up over the speakers.

 

"Yes!" Rayla shouted.

 

"No!" Callum practically croaked.

 

"Soren says, 'Have her come to our place tomorrow night, I'm throwing an end of the semester party for the end of the year. Maybe you can look cool and get lucky.'

 

Callum slammed his forehead on the steering wheel.

 

"Well," Rayla said, pursing her lips together, "You must feel really awkward right about now."

 

Callum's voice was strangled, "Yea."

 

"It's about to be worse." Rayla winced.

 

"Great." Callum already felt like he had been kicked in the nuts.

 

"You're not really my type?" She offered up, not sure if that would help him or hurt him further?

 

"That's a question?" he rebutted.

 

"No, not really." Rayla scratched her leg uncomfortably, "Sorry?"

 

Callum sighed, taking the car out of park and putting it in reverse, "It's not the first time. Not the last either." He mumbled under his breath.

 

"Just like that?" Rayla raised an eyebrow at him.

 

"Hmm?"

 

"You're over me just like that? I thought I was worth a little more struggle at least." She said defensively

 

"Well," Callum said with a smile, "Truth be told, you're not my type either, but that's not going to stop me from pining over you for the next month."

 

"A whole month? Wow." Rayla smiled in mock appreciation.

 

"Well that, and every time I see you after." Callum laughed, trying to hide his damaged ego under non-chalance

 

Rayla laughed, "You don't even know anything about me. I don't know anything about you. Just 'Black Coffee'."

 

"Fair." Callum shrugged, turning back onto one of downtown Katolis main streets.

 

"You're really making me want to change my mind here." Rayla said disbelievingly, the sarcasm heavy in her voice.

 

"It's part of my charm. It's why I get all the ladies." Callum offered arrogantly.

 

Rayla stared at him flatly.

 

Callum cleared his throat, "And by all, I mean none."

 

"Uh-huh." Rayla crossed her arms and sat back in the seat, watching the city go by.

 

They drove in silence for a time and arrived at campus.

 

"Do you want me to drop you off at your dorm building?" Callum asked, finally breaking the silence. 

 

"No, I live off campus with a few other exchange students as part of a sister college program from overseas."

 

"Oh, cool." Callum nodded, "I live off campus, too, my father is in real estate and he bought several rental houses for students, so Soren, Claudia, and I all live in the same house."

 

"Soren as in - " She pointed at the phone.

 

"Yea," Callum strangled out again, remembering the awkward hands free text reading.

 

"Well, I'm sure it's a lovely house." Rayla teased, "Turn here, then it's the fifth house on the right."

 

Callum turned onto the street, one he knew all to well, "You're shitting me."

 

"No…" Rayla asked, suspicious, "Why?"

 

Callum leveled a stare at her, and turned into the drive on the sixth house on the left. The garage door opening and allowing Callum to pull in.

 

"You mean this beauty has been across the street from me this whole semester and I never noticed it?" Rayla whistled in appreciation.

 

"Yes, yes I have." Callum answered cheesily.

 

Rayla snorted, "Yea, keep trying Don Juan."

 

Callum parked the car and got out, getting his bag out of the trunk as Rayla got out with her pizza and own belongings, "Speaking of still trying. The party. It'll be super lame, a bunch of seniors and upper classmen trashing my house. You could at least come hang out for a bit, make it not so lame."

 

"This is it huh? Your big move? The pitiful nerd?" Rayla laughed, stopping at the garage entrance.

 

"I work with what I got." Callum added confidently.

 

There was a long pause as Rayla shuffled her feet, looking down at them. Back pack slung over one shoulder and a pizza box balanced on the opposite hip. She groaned, "Fine, text me the details when you know more."

 

"I don't have your number." Callum called after her as she walked away.

 

"Get it from Clauds," Rayla called over her shoulder and headed across the street to her home.

 

Callum couldn't help but watch her walk away.


	4. Reverse-Reverse

The wafting heady scent of roasted coffee beans intermingled with the homey smell of baked goods, almost enough to overpower the underlying scent of industrial cleaning product that was used to keep 'Can't Sleep, Won't Sleep' sanitized.  Callum hunched over a table around the corner from the main counter just beyond the display of bagels and pastries, where he had been working for several hours now. His hand scribbled intently, wavy lines blending into heavy edges and then back again with a soft scratch that was only just barely audible over the cacophony of the modern day coffee house, baristas shouting names, calling out orders that he didn't pay any attention to. He couldn't have heard them anyways with the ear bud headphones blaring in his ears.

 

With finals next week and his art project  due at the end of it on top of the other mounting responsibilities that he had on his plate all coming to a culmination in the next seven days. Stress was well beyond beginning to mount.

 

Callum had just left the last lecture of the semester at noon, a final lecture on magnetic fields and their influence over electrical currents. Burned out from the discussion that had ensued on the topic, Callum had come to the on campus coffee shop to get a drink before heading home for the afternoon.

 

Black coffee, his usual, was ordered from the tall and lanky barista with scraggly hair gathered in a top knot and he took his stereotypical ceramic cup and sat down to rest. It wasn't long before he found himself with coffee cup empty and large sketchbook out on the table before him. His art final on his mind, he took to testing ideas out on paper and then became ensnared in the movements, of the vision yet to be revealed.

 

His artistic meditation wasn't even interrupted hours later when the scrape of a new ceramic cup caused the particle board table beneath his hands to vibrate softly. Callum didn't look up, and it took the shadow moving across his paper to draw his attention.

 

Callum looked up, startled. Snapping to sudden rapt attention with the realization that the woman that kept him tossing and turning the night before was right there before him. Callum tried not to be obvious about how he drank her in, white hair tied back in a messy bun the undyed roots obvious, loose fly-aways framed her face in a way that seemed almost intentional. Her face was adorned with the same purple winged eyeshadow, but today her lips matched the tone.  Under her red barista apron Callum could see a series of moons an a depiction of a howling wolf on her graphic tee peaking out from behind the apron. The shirt hung baggy over her and bulged around the ties on the apron, but her sleeves were rolled up to show slender toned shoulders. The apron and shirt hid her waist, but two matte black pleather clad legs shifted as she waited for him to respond.

 

Rayla mimed for Callum to take the head phones out irritation plain on her face.

 

Callum pulled the buds out and set them down next to his pencil.

 

Before Callum could even open his mouth, she cut him off, her Nordic accent cradling her words, "It's kinda stalker-ish to be waitin' for a girl at work."

 

A pit found its way into Callum's stomach and he found his way into stammering, "O-oh, hey, Rayla." Callum mumbled under his breath suddenly fearful that he might have sent the wrong impression, that he might have been too overbearing unintentionally. All he had been trying to do was get a cup of coffee and time had gotten away from him. What did she think now? Did she really think him a stalker?

 

"Oh, relax. No need ta be so skittish." Rayla pushed the cup towards Callum, easing his hyped up nerves, "Ya been sittin' here for a while. Need a refill?"

 

Callum spared a glance for the empty cup beside and glanced at the new brew she proffered, still steaming hot. The cup was forest green with silver symbols and arcs in a pattern Callum didn't recognize. He reached out and caught the cool loop of the mug and pulled it to his lips. Caffeine would surely not do to soothe any sort of jangled nerves now, and the way Rayla's presence just tended to make his heart race and his head go foggy wouldn't help his advances.

 

But it was free coffee, the lifeblood that he had come to rely on in the last several months to keep him going into the early morning hours. When somebody offered you a taste of divine ambrosia, you did not turn it down. 

 

Not to mention it was finals week.

 

The hot liquid coated his mouth and tongue, though he had drank coffee a hundreds of times before, if not thousands, it was still a bitter invigoration each time, as though the foreknowledge of the flavor only helped to emphasize the magnitude and undertones of taste. Warmth spread through Callum's mouth, through his chest and into his abdomen. The earthy flavor giving hints of chocolate and, oddly, dirt. Not gross dirt, but the fancy kind, that arborists and landscapers used. The chill of the winter outside was mild after being so long in the coffee shop, but the swig did fend off the last dregs of chill that had clung to him deep in his fingertips and toes.

 

He smiled softly, just enjoying the brew, "Thanks, Rayla." He added before taking another sip.

 

"Don't mention it, dummy." Rayla smiled at him and let him return to his work, taking his old cup with her back to the kitchen. Callum didn't watch her walk away, or at least, didn't ogle the way her hips swayed, and didn't let his eyes linger on the curve of her smiling lips wondering at how they tasted, how they felt. No, he didn't do any of those things. Taking the serpent of desire from his mind and throttling it into submission, he took reign of his attention once more. Callum placed the coffee cup down and armed himself with pencil. He kept the pencil moving, focusing on the lines, the shading that made the structure he crafted come to life and forget it's two dimensional bindings.

 

Lost in the work, time passed around him. Patrons came and went, other people filled tables laughing, studying, but Callum worked. His lines and edges nearly obsessed over. Though he would look up occasionally it didn't really register that the light outside was fading and the wintry afternoon moved into a wintry evening. It was cold without snow on the ground and the pavement of the sidewalk took on a frost kissed look even while the grass faded to looking brittle and stiff in mid December.

 

The playlist of his music progressed unbidden and he left behind the dulcimer tones of  various folk artists and progressed to more modern, more urban sounds. It was in the midst of this New and Recommended playlist that the heavy thumping bass of 'What's Up Danger' was suddenly interrupted by the tell tale tone of his cell phone's ring. Callum dropped the pencil and absently reached for the pocket of his hoodie. Fishing the device out of the pocket by the headphone cord he flipped it so the screen could be seen.

 

Shit.

 

Callum swiped upwards, talking instantly, the headphones with their own microphone, "Hi, Mom."

 

"Callum! Good! You're not busy are you?"

 

Callum looked at the sketchbook before him, the piece an amalgamation of lines that was breathing life into a scenic representation of the night sky over the Katolis cityscape. He looked at the clock on the wall, 4:43.

 

Goddammit.

 

"No, mom, I'm just sitting, drawing." Callum answered with a pleasantness he didn't feel.

 

Looking at the time, Callum was estimating he would have left soon, scrounged up some dinner, taken a shower, made himself look a little cute so he could woo and romance a certain ivory skinned foreigner.

 

It wouldn't have worked anyways, he wasn't her type.

 

It was too close to finals to be worrying about romancing somebody new.

 

"Great!" Her excitement was exactly what he feared.

 

God. Dammit.

 

"Your aunts Amaya & Janai need you to watch little Lessa tonight." Her voice was bubbly and pressured. It always was when there was a prospect of going out with her sister and sister-in-law. Callum groaned internally. He placed an elbow on the table and rested his forehead in his hand.

 

"Of course, mom," Callum said a little too wistfully.

 

"Oh, did you have plans?" her voice was both scared and hopeful. Scared of losing her evening out, but hopeful that her introverted son might be finally coming out of his shell. There was a reason she had convinced (pronounced forced) him to live with Soren and Claudia, after all.

 

"No." Callum answered flatly, looking over to the barista counter where Rayla worked, she was wiping down a counter, "Nothing definite. Was probably going to stay in and study for next week." As if she felt his gaze, Rayla looked up, catching him looking at her, he looked away quickly, pondering a very interesting ceiling tile near the entrance.

 

"Great," his mother laughed, he could hear her working with various tubes and vials of her makeup. She was probably at home sitting in front of her vanity, "Besides, Ezran would love to spend some time with you, I'm sure. We'll pay you for your trouble. Get a little cash before Christmas rolls around."

 

Changing the topic, Callum asked, "Got off early today?"

 

"Yea," Sarai added, having what she needed no longer focusing on the conversation, "Since I had to stay late last night, Dr. Mooney, you've met Dr. Tomaz Mooney, made sure that I got out early tonight, so I am making sure I take advantage of it!"

 

"I'll be home a little after seven, does that work?" Callum asked.

 

"Perfect, we'll be out the door at seven to make our reservation so as long as you're punctual it won't be an issue." She was barely paying attention anymore.

 

"Yea, am I ever not?" Callum added in a rote voice.

 

"Alright, Lov'ya sweety-pie." The line went dead and the music flooded his headphones again, a raucous voice harshly yelling, "Who in here tryin' ta start a riot?!"

 

Callum stood from the table and put the phone back in his pocket.

 

Fuck.

 

It's fine.

 

Still.

 

Callum looked at the sketchbook and the array of belongings he had to pack up. He closed the sketchbook and put the pencil in the ring binding of the collection of fantasies. Leaving the book on the table with his bag he approached the counter and a certain barista who had moved on to making another pot of coffee. She was the only one manning the shop, but they would be closing soon, only open until so late, especially on a Friday night, especially on the week before finals.

 

Callum stood at the counter, hands in the pockets of his jeans, red hooded jacket hanging open showing a graphic tee with the word MALIWAN printed across it at an angle. Rayla flipped a frother into action and the whirring machine began to spin up. She called out over it, seeing him out of the corner of her eye, "Welcome ta 'Can't Sleep, Won't Sleep' how can I caffeinate ya today?"

 

"Hey Rayla," Callum shouted over the whir. Luckily the dismal attitude he was feeling didn't carry so well when he shouted.

 

"Oye. Ya need another black coffee to put a li'l skip in ya loo?" She smirked at him with a sidelong glance, "I know I can brew a meen po'shun, but I can only do sew much wit tha shite grounds they buy."

 

Callum instantly forgot what he was going to say, "A skip in my what?"

 

"In ya loo." She answered matter-of-factly.

 

Callum hesitated, but then he forged onwards with his reason for approaching, "I'll have to cancel our plans" The last of his words tumbled out right as the frother stopped so that he shouted his intent to cancel their arrangement was broadcast to the entirety of six, no wait, asian girl by the bathroom, seven remaining patrons of Can't Sleep, Won't Sleep. A sudden hush fell over the coffee shop. The eyes of everyone else was suddenly on them, on him, and he could feel their gaze like needles boring into his back.

 

The silence stretched on, Callum grew more uncomfortable and began to fidget.

 

Rayla looked around the coffee shop seeing Callum's attention float to the patrons and back to her. He saw a shadow is a smirk before she reigned in her expression, before finally stating a little too loudly, "It's not very cool to cancel a date tha nigh' uv."

 

Callum's face flashed confusion, then indignation, "It's not very cool of you to call it a date only after I cancel it" Callum exclaimed squeakily. People's attention was beginning to drift away, they got the story, some guy ditching a girl before finals. Nothing new there.

 

"What can I say," Rayla took the cup of frothed milk and began adding it to a cup of black liquid, not meeting his gaze, "Its fun to make you twist in the wind. I'll have to make a habit of this."

 

"So," Callum sighed exasperatedly, "Am I sufficiently twisted for today, then?"

 

"I s'pose." Rayla shrugged.

 

Callum began to walk away, but then turned back, "Don't you want to know why I am cancelling?"

 

"Ar' ya' mah boyfriend?" Rayla asked flippantly.

 

"I could be if you let me." Callum sniped.

 

"Not my boyfriend," Rayla laughed, "Not my business."

 

The young artist turned away, then back "I have to ask," Callum pushed on, "You called tonight a date. Or what we were planning a date. Does that mean I could convince you to hang out another time?"

 

"You are just radiating confidence." Rayla rolled her eyes. She offered no further explanation and returned to work.

 

Callum strode away, hanging his head and worked to finish packing up his belongings. She had said she'd make a habit of making him twist in the wind. Hopeful, he cast a glance back to where Rayla had gotten back to work. She wasn't there.

 

Callum looked around the small shop, trying to find those violet eyes and soft pink lips, and succeeded in finding her begin collecting a number of coffee cups from an abandoned table. He caught her figure, her movements, the slow yet confident saunter that made up her gait. She caught him catching her. She approached and Callum was again forced to try not to be obvious about watching the way she moved. Rayla had a grey plastic bin of dirty dishes sitting on her hip. She seemed to smirk as she watched him watching her.

 

When she got within a reasonable distance, she offered, "Callum, I can take that for you. I'll take care of that for you. Just go on an-"

 

The toe of her clunky black leather boots caught on the heel of her foot, and in a majestic display of splashing fluids and the music of clattering ceramics, the entirety of the collected dirty dishes splashed across the table, upon which still say Callum's sketchbook and belongings. A splash of brown black liquid shot across his belongings, most notably of which was his sketchbook. What had been a kind and confident display quickly turned mortification. Rayla grabbed a towel from her apron and began to dab furiously at the mixture of cream, sugar, and coffee. There was even part of a half eaten danish that had tumbled lazily to a stop against his book bag.

 

The coffee was absorbed rapidly by the cloth rag, but the dry paper was like a thirsty man given water fresh out of the desert. The damp rag did little to reverse this. The paper wrinkled and bent as the brown tan concoction slipped between the pages.

 

The crash brought some attention, but it was Calling exclamation that brought each of the few remaining patrons attention.

 

"Oh, raspberries!" Callum cried out as he tried to help Rayla clean up the mess, tried to save his belongings and his sketchbook containing more than just his final.

 

"I'm sorry!" Rayla winced, "Oh, shite, I'm so sorry." Rayla continued to dab at the table and sketchbook. .

 

"Just stop." Callum said soothingly, "it'll be ok in just need t- Shit." He finally got a good look at the damage, the rest of the paper was soaked through with the same glaring splotch.

 

Rayla stood back, using the coffee stained rag as a shield, "I'm sorry." was all Rayla could manage.

 

Callum saw it, assessed it. Realized it was a lost cause. Hours of work gone and wasted.

 

As others in the shop whistled looking at the mess, some made commentary about 'good job' and 'nice going, she-ra'. Callum ignored them, running a hand through his hair, realizing too late that there was coffee on his fingertips. Sighing in defeat, mumbled to Rayla, "I'm going to go. I... Umm... You can still go to the party tonight, I just have some family stuff I got roped into. It'll.... It'll let me restart this and see if any of my other projects can be saved."

 

He could tell Rayla didn't want to ask, "Other projects?"

 

"Yeah." The word was lined with more frustration than he wanted, not aimed at Rayla, but at the entire situation, "Nothing for a grade, but like, a family portrait for my mother, and Claudia's gift to Soren of him riding a unicornagon in full plate armor."

 

"Unicornigon?" Her voice was pitiful. Did it have to be so damn cute?

 

"Yea," Callum looked at the upset girl from overseas, her tough demeanor having cracked from the guilt of ruining his work, "A dragon unicorn." Her violet eyes were wide, looking between him fearfully and the mess she had made of his work. Was it weird that it was the sheen of sweat on her brow that drew his eye the most? Made her ivory skin seem to glisten and shimmer, the slight flush of her cheeks a stark juxtaposition of color and tone.

 

"I…I pro'lly won't go to the party." Rayla mumbled, "Will you be able to get your project done…?"

 

Callum let out a defeated sigh. Lifting the sketchpad, noting the runnels of coffee that continued to spill over as they raced along the edge, "Yea, I'll be able to get it done, just going to be a hard push." Callum decided something, "I...I really want to go out sometime Rayla, I think that at the very least we could be good friends, but... I, maybe when the next semester starts? After finals?" 

 

"Callum, I-" Rayla didn't say much of anything else. She merely watched the mess continue to settle.

 

"I'll see you around, Rayla." Callum smiled weakly at her. Callum picked up his sketchbook, careful not to let the drops of coffee coming from his sketchbook to make further mess and made for the door. It was several blocks home, but once he was outside into the modern loft-esque four person housing near the coffee shop, he stopped caring if the paper dripped and drained on the ground.

 

Another drip of coffee amidst the salt of the frozen pathways.

 

Coming out of the tunnel of housing and amenities available to the college student population he made his way by the community amphitheater where he had watched Claudia perform a modern rendition of classical pieces earlier this autumn, and Soren's Pop-Punk-Dubstep-Gregorian Chant Revival DJ. The cold wind did naught to cool his frustrations, but the memory of Soren in a hot pink booty shorts, shades and Ugg boots showing off his carefully crafted physique did bring a smile to his face.

 

Maybe not everything would be ruined.

 

Making it home and sitting down, pulling out the different sketches, he realized that everything was ruined, and tried not to dwell on how he had left things with Rayla.

 

Callum separated out the pieces he had been working on, at least twenty sketches in various stages of completion. Each of the drawings covered with it's own slightly unique splotch of brown and tan. He hung the more finished pieces to dry. One over the back of his chair, one over a shelf, but there were too many pieces and not enough surfaces in the room. He rummaged through shelves and drawers, trying to find that one perfect thing he could use.

 

In the end he settled on duct tape. Not ideal, but perfect for his budget as it was on hand. Callum wrapped a loop of tape about one shelf, and then another across the room, and hung the pieces up using the frayed edge and the adhesive with the help of some chip clips foraged from the kitchen.

 

That task accomplished, Callum threw his belongings together, grabbing an unused sketchbook, a text book, his laptop, and all the chargers that this necessitated before heading to the garage. He carelessly threw his bag across the car into the passenger seat and ducked into the car.

 

The prospect of the evening with Ezran would have been nice, but Lessa was a shit and he did not have a way with kids. Callum wistfully thought of what the night could have been. Some whiskey, some vodka, maybe a little stress relief, he would have jacked it in shower to de-stress before meeting up with Rayla and maybe, just maybe, he could have held her hand or stolen a kiss.

 

He smacked his head on the steering wheel and groaned, mumbling to himself, "Whatever." Then hit the big red button on the remote and the grinding of the garage door opener began to churn. Callum rammed the key into the ignition and a little too aggressively turned the car over. The engine came to life and the radio lit up, "Okay Google, Play Rayllum Mix on Spotify."

 

Yes, he had made a Spotify using their combined couple name, he wasn't obsessed.

 

Shit, maybe he was a stalker.

 

He was mulling this over when a rap came at the window. Thinking he had been alone, the presence of somebody else in the garage startled him. He jumped and squeaked, looking to the side to see none other than Rayla standing there in the garage.

 

Callum rolled down the window and tried to catch his breath.

 

"Scare easily, do ya?" Rayla leaned on the open window. He could smell the sweet lilac scent of her shampoo wafting from her hair. She no longer wore the apron, and wore a long leather coat that flared out at the hips.

 

"Hey, Rayla," Callum said, trying to regain his composure, "What's up?"

 

"I decided something." Rayla said confidently, walking around to the passenger side of the car.

 

"Oh?" Callum asked.

 

"I'm coming with you." She shouted to him as she opened the door and shoved his bag roughly to the middle and put her own bag between her knees as she shimmied into the leather bucket seat.

 

"Oh?!" Callum asked again, more concerned than just a moment before.

 

"Heck yea, you see, the thing is," Rayla whispered conspiratorially, "My douche-bag neighbor is throwin' a major partah t'night, the Friday bahfore finals, I mean who does tha'? I need a quiet place ta study. What bettah place to study than with a completely plahtonic friend with whom nothing else could possibly be construed?"

 

Callum put the car in reverse and began backing out of the driveway, "Yea, sounds perfect."

 


	5. Going Home

The front seat of the Callum's car was far from warm. The car having just turned over hadn't worked up enough oomph to start pouring out heat in a way that would have made Rayla comfortable, but part of the flaw of her outfit was that it wasn't exactly the most insulated and coy attire she owned. No, that was the dragon onesie she had tucked away in her drawer. She intended to bust that bad boy out when her house mates were gone visiting different land marks over the holidays. An exploration of the country which she elected to not go on due to gymnastics practice as well as just sheer apathy.

 

Callum put the car in reverse and Rayla watched him look over his shoulder to back out. He wasn't the build that she went for, preferring taller and more muscular guys, this lean bean of a boy did have things she could appreciate.

 

Those emerald eyes that had made her nervous that first time they crossed paths in the coffee shop. She had been watching him draw on a slow day over thanks giving break. Those eyes intent on his work, not paying attention to the world around him, immersed in the world of his own creation. Perhaps too deeply. There had been a number of girls she had seen looking at him, or start to approach him. A little reciprocal attention from this starving artist may have secured him some special attentions from multiple Friday night regrets, maybe even a relationship. But sketchbook or textbook, headphones were always in his ears. Hand running through shaggy brown hair and pristine verdant eyes seeing works and places others were not privy to.

 

And then he had approached the counter. And his eyes had been on her. And her heart wasn't in her throat and her pulse wasn't racing, and she didn't feel flushed. He had stared at her, those eyes twinkling and she could just imagine what he had been thinking about. The audacity he had to just stare at her, ogle her, had perturbed her. And she had snarled at him! What right did he have to make her feel like an object like that, as less of a woman and more a piece of meat?

 

Then he had given her a ride, he was smart, and witty, and asked for nothing in return, other than a chance to hangout, a chance to be with her. And that want necessarily in return, more a suggestion of how things could go, if she was open to it.  It wasn't just that she could take him in a fight that made him seem safe and non-threatening, it was more how he carried himself, how he let the world come to him and happen all around him. When the world was chaos, he was the calm in the storm. Though, admittedly, she had yet to see him weather a true gale.

 

That night though, she had still not been able to get her mind off of how he looked at her. Like a hungry beast staring, those verdant eyes glowing with desire. Those eyes had filled hot and hungry dreams that had kept her stirring and sweating despite the cold outside.

 

In the coffee shop the next day she had resolved not to talk to him, wouldn't broach the subject of that coming evening and how he hadn't taken the time to text her yet. No, she was going to give him the cold shoulder, make sure he knew where he stood with her. Completely platonic.

 

But then he sat staring at the blank paper with that intent look in his eyes. That damned burning and she knew she just wanted to see what that gaze saw. Rayla had navigated about the coffee shop several times, cleaning up dishes, wiping down the tables. She had watched a blank piece of paper transform into a dazzling cityscape, one she recognized as slowly turning into Katolis oriented about a circle. All the buildings seemed to stretch toward the omnipresent sky out from the center, a small globe of the concentrated concrete machinations of mankind. The shadows fading in and out from some unknown light source that made the edges sharp and stark in contrast.

 

On her last run through the coffee house Rayla noted that his cup was empty beside him and had caught him stifling a yawn out of the corner of her eye as she cleaned another patrons place. Rayla had procured him a a cup of black coffee, bitterly noting that she had grabbed her favorite mug. She warred with herself about whether or not to continue taking it to him, this was her favorite after all. She didn't want him to get the wrong idea. But he wouldn't know it was her favorite and settled on taking it over in a completely platonic fashion that could not be misconstrued in any way shape or form.

 

Then Callum came to the counter and cancelled on her. She was more upset with an evening of partying cancelled, though admittedly she was never one to enjoy drinking the way these college students did, binging large amounts to see who could black out the fastest. No, Rayla much preferred the slow and steady drunk that came with spending time with good drink and better friends.

 

Oh, god, and then the spilled coffee. Even sitting in the car with Callum now, there was no denying the hot shame and embarrassment she felt, if she didn't catch herself she would cross her arms protectively and squeeze her legs together, withdrawing into herself. Not to say that Rayla felt she shouldn't feel bad for it, on the contrary, she knew that she had ruined his work and felt extremely guilty, she just knew being down on herself wouldn't help the situation.

 

So here she was, with her bag, in Callum's car, as he pulled out of the driveway, intent on making sure that if she could give him time to catch up on work tonight, time to re-create some of his drawings or study, she would let him, but if she couldn't, well then she had plenty to study herself for next week.

 

Callum had navigated off of campus and he hadn't said anything to Rayla yet, she began to second guess herself, maybe she should let him off the hook for tonight, ask him to pull over and let her out. One look over at him and she could see the stress in his shoulders. Rayla didn't have to know him intimately to recognize that squared stance, clenched jaw, and almost glaring look in his eye as he watched the traffic pass by. 

 

Rayla leaned an elbow against the window and sat silently for a time, they passed through campus and out of the unprotected grounds that blended seamlessly with the surrounding suburbs and then city. Listening to the music flow around her in the car. Rayla was struck by something familiar, "Is this…Owl City?" The soft caressing sounds of Vanilla Twilight spun around them, "Ah wasn't expecting somethin' so soft from yoo. Ya really, y'know, like ta portray y'urself as the paragon ov masculinity."

 

Callum gave her a sidelong glance without really taking his eyes off the road, he reached up and turned the volume down, the soft voice of Adam Young fading into obscurity. There was a short pause before he spoke, as though he was choosing his next words carefully, "Why did you come with me?"

 

"No answer ta the banter?" Rayla deflected, "Is this y'ur first time flirtin'?"

 

"Is that what we're doing?" Callum lobbed back, the question harsh.

 

"Well," Rayla argued, pouting, "Not really, because, frankly, ya suck at it."

 

"I thought I wasn't your type anyways?" Callum sighed, his voice softening.

 

"You are most definitely not my type." Rayla confirmed smiling, "Or did ya miss tha part where I said 'completely platonic'?"

 

"Alright," Callum grimaced again, "So now that we've covered that extensively, why are you in my car heading to parents house."

 

Rayla held up a finger, "I did not know that's where we were heading." Rayla answered flatly.

 

Callum snorted, looked out the window to his left, then back to the road, "Do you make a habit of getting in cars not knowing where they're going?"

 

"Two days in a row is mah streak so far." Rayla shrugged, "Though I suppose I knew where we were going yesterday, so one day."

 

"And, again," Callum asked softer this time, "Why?"

 

Rayla again had to fight off feeling abashed. She felt that same embarrassment wash over her anew, "I feel bad." She looked out the window again, not wanting to see him looking at her with those damn green eyes, "I feel bad that I ruined your work and took up your study time right before finals, I feel bad that I ruined your sketches that I don't know how long it took you to work on." She let her admission of guilt hang in the air for a time before adding, "Plus I hear the muscle bound douche bag DJ is having a party at my neighbors house, so my hopes of studying calmly this evening for my Microeconomics final is a distant hope."

 

"Ah, this makes sense," Callum smiled, "Now, I'm on board." The stress and strain didn’t completely drain out of him, but she could see a little bit of tension ease. Another unknown now explained and taken off the table, "Microeconomics?" Callum mused, again looking Rayla up and down in that way she hated. Assessing her, trying to understand her, to see her. The tension in her rose, "So, are you a business major, then?"

 

"Nah, Poli-Sci." Rayla answered. This was the first their conversations had gone anywhere beyond back and forth jesting and self deprecation, "You?"

 

"Physics." Callum answered proudly.

 

"Wow," Rayla's eyebrows climbed, "That's -"

 

"Impressive?" Callum offered

 

"Boring." Rayla answered definitively.

 

"Why you gotta hate a playah like that," Callum asked, turning off one of the main roads of Katolis and onto one that wound deeper into the surrounding woodlands.

 

Rayla snorted.

 

Callum looked at her smiling, "What, now I can't be a player?"

 

"As a physics majar? No, yoo are most definitely not a 'playah', sorry homie." Rayla sat back in the seat, laughing. The car was starting to warm up a bit, "I knew ya were a nerd."

 

"I never claimed to not be a nerd," Callum lightheartedly explained, "Don't you know nerds are sexy these days?"

 

"No, Callum, dummy, sexy nerds are sexy." Rayla tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, "Nerds are still just nerds."

 

"You really know how to build your date up." Callum added flatly, but the smile on his face belied his true feelings.

 

"Oh, no you don't," Rayla chuckled, "I dinnae say this was a date. I said this was completely platonic. A girl and a guy going someplace quiet to study."

 

"Taking you home to meet my family." Callum nodded

 

"Wait, what?" Rayla asked, alarm building.

 

"I told you this was a family thing, that you were going to meet my parents, what did you think I meant?" Callum was confused at her change in tone.

 

"Not that I'd be meeting dear ol' ma and pa, and all the little Callum-lings they have running around." Rayla tried to squelch the sudden panic. She didn't want them to get the wrong idea, didn't want Callum to get the wrong idea. She was in no state to be meeting parents, she was still gross from work, wearing her pleather leggings that made her cooch worse than a swamp in August. But lord did they do something wonderful for her legs and ass.

 

"His name's Ezran," Callum chuckled.

 

"Who's?" Rayla barely heard him.

 

"My brother." Callum answered still smiling, "His name is Ezran, he's like four or five years younger than me?" Callum shrugged, "But he's cool enough."

 

"Wait." Rayla put up her hands before her, trying to get the information train to put the brakes on, "What exactly is going on this evening. Why are you heading back home? Better yet, where is home?"

 

Callum nodded, "See, this is why you don't hop into cars with random men."

 

"We are well past that now, thank you." Rayla squeaked.

 

"Home is Katolian Heights, a suburb outside the city," Callum pointed to the sign outside the gated community, as the iron gate opened slowly to permit his car, "My Aunt Amaya is dropping off her daughter, Lessa, barely more than an infant, for me to watch. As an added bonus I will be able to keep an eye on any mischief that Ezran would get up to meaning that dear old mom and Mr. King will be able to have a nice night out on the town with Amaya and her wife Janai."

 

Rayla pressed her index fingers together over steepled hands, looking at Callum, "I now have additional questions."

 

"Yea," Callum answered, "Don't get me started on how Janai and Amaya found their sperm donor." Callum  chuckled.

 

"Now that's all I want to ask though! You can't do that!" Rayla laughed with him. The car took a lazy route down a private drive and they came to yet another gate. "C'mon, tell me!"

 

Callum leaned in and whispered conspiratorially, "Okay, so there's this bisexual guy Soren was dating, Gren, right?"

 

"Go on!" Rayla was listening intently.

 

"Incoming call from Mother Dearest." The robotic voice broke into the conversation.

 

Callum sighed, and Rayla looked on disappointed, "Ok Google, answer the call."

 

"Callum!" A woman's voice excitedly broke the silence.

 

"Yes, Mom?" Callum asked, offering an weak and apologetic smile to Rayla

 

"Hey! Your father and I had to leave so we could make the reservation, but, as usual, Amaya and Janai are running late. Still getting used to the post-we-had-a-baby-and-cannot-run-out-the-door-on-a whim time management, I think. It's just Ezran at home right now, but they should be by in a bit to drop Lessa off.  Then they'll be meeting us downtown. Alright, have a good night, there's a charge card for ordering pizza on the kitchen table. Okay, love you, bye!"

 

The line went dead before Callum could get a word in.

 

"She's a real conversationalist," Rayla commented dryly as they pulled around the private drive and the garage came into view.

 

"Yea, she's super busy most of the time and doesn't really slow down." Callum added, "It's okay though." He didn’t want to add more, she could tell from the way his lips pressed together in a thin line.

 

Looking around, Rayla was amazed, the driveway seemed to blend seamlessly with the woods about the house, a path through the forest leading to a secluded home rather than an overt domination of the woodlands, "Is that a five car garage?!" Rayla exclaimed. Bending and moving with the terrain, a home expanded outwards overshadowed by large trees, "This is practically a castle!"

 

"Yea," Callum nodded, not bragging, just stating the facts of it.

 

"How do you have a multi-level garage? Who is your dad?"

 

"Mr. Harrow King is my step-dad." Callum said proudly.

 

"Harrow King? As in King Industries? As in the Usurper's of Proctor and Gamble? As in the business that has a hand in everything from toe nail clippers to lingerie?"

 

"I mean, those aren't the two that I think of right off the top of my head, but yea, sure." Callum  laughed nervously. She could see the blush spreading across his face.

 

"But your mother left?" Rayla interjected, unsure of why that lifted a weight from her shoulders.

 

Callum let out a sad breath, "Yea."

 

The garage opened permitting Callum to bring the reformatted and refurbished Corvette into the garage. Callum got out of the car and moved to the other side, opening the door for Rayla as she struggled with her long legs and the low riding chassis of the corvette. He offered her a hand, which she took and used him to hoist herself ungracefully out of the bucket seat.

 

From the corner of the garage a soft and mirthful voice piped up, "You brought a girl home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry about your coat, hope this makes you feel better.


	6. Chinese Food

From the entrance of the garage leading to the rest of the house a soft and mischievous voice piped up, "You brought a girl home?" The voice was mirthful, but the teasing tone wasn't lost on Rayla. Where Callum had helped her out of the car, she had to suppress a bit of a jolt. The surprise of this newcomer catching her off guard. Rayla turned casually turned to see who spoke. 

Callum didn't handle being startled so well, he yelped slightly as he whipped his head around, "Ezran!" Callum quickly looked to his hand and Rayla's, dropping it as though it scorched him. Though he had just been helping her out of the car, Callum's face seemed to match his scarf, "Came to meet me in the garage! How nice!"

Rayla looked between Callum and where this young man stood ready to greet them. She didn't feel the same shame about being caught holding hands. Callum was just helping her out of a car that was designed for people with much shorter legs. There had been no thrill when he had taken her hand, no passing excitation that she had to explain to herself later. No slightly caught scents of spice or temptation to stumble out of the car and into his arms. None. 

Clearing her throat quietly, Rayla bent to get her bag, unconsciously wiping her hand on her leggings to get rid of the sudden clammy sensation. She wasn't bending to hide a blush, just to get her things. Totally reasonable.

Just into his teenage years, the little 'King' fit the stereotype perfectly. He wore a stained white tee shirt with what looked like barbecue sauce that had long given up hope of ever being washed out, a hole in the hem over his hip. Baggy black athletic shorts that fell down to well over his knees covered the majority of finely haired legs leaving lanky calves and ankles to give way to bare feet completely without hair. The imprinted ridges of athletic socks could still be seen, now just beginning to fade. Round blue eyes and a button nose sat atop a wide grinning mouth. Wild hair made of tightly curled locks was wrangled feebly by a baseball cap worn backwards forcing the majority of the wild hair to jut out the sides and back. Watching this teenager though, she was struck by the difference in their skin tone. Callum's pale olive complexion and slight tilt to his eyes made her think that he had a heritage hailing from the Asian or South American cultures. Ezran had some shared features, but the dark complexion was a definite difference. 

At Ezran's side there was a large basset hound who sat on his haunches, a patchwork of browns and tans and off-whites. Eyelids drooping upon it's grumpy face, masses of skin sagging down, it glared on somberly. 

The teenager's already broad smile became even toothier as he approached Rayla. Shoving out a hand, he introduced himself, "I'm Ezran King, Callum's smaller and wiser brother." 

This young man was not at all what she expected out of a brother of Callum. With Callum being a little more on the reserved and calm side, she hadn't expected to have his brother be this bold and outgoing. The one thing that they did have in common was that they had the same eyes. Not the color by any means. Where Ezran had eyes of azure blue that sparkled even in the incandescent light of the garage, Callum had emerald eyes that made her think of the deep woods and verdant hills back home in Xadia. No, the similarity was in that both seemed to sparkle in the same joyous way when they smiled. 

Rayla examined Ezran's hand suspiciously before taking it, gripping it firmly, and shaking once. "Rayla." 

Grumbling something under his breath about 'interruptions', Callum walked over to Bait, kneeling. He brightened his voice and changed the timbre to one of joy and approval, "What's up grumpy-sir-sags-alot?" Scratching the beasts folds of excess skin gently earned Callum a 'boof' of approval and a half hearted tail wag, "You're a good boy, Bait."

Ezran cut his enthusiastic introduction to Rayla short in a courteous and kind voice, "Excuse me, momentarily, I must assault my brother."

"What?" Rayla asked, blinking. 

Ezran was already gone.

A loud piercing warble like cry pierced the air. Only a second had passed since Ezran spoke, yet he was already in flight. The teenager was airborne, carrying with him all the weight of his young body. He slammed into Callum who was still paying attention to Bait.

"Mmph!" Callum grunted and leaned sideways towards the dirty concrete of the garage floor. Callum reached out with his right arm and tried to brace himself on the floor, but the overly energetic embrace of Ezran couldn't be stopped. Instead Callum turned into a rolling tumble from kneeling to his right hip, and then to the floor. 

Callum laughed, "The hell, dude?"

"Did you bring my Christmas gift? Is it in the car?" the teenager glared intently down his nose at Callum.

"You'll get your gift on Christmas like everyone else!" Callum shouted, "Besides, why would I give you a gift, you just tackled me!"

"Acknowledging my dominance as the superior brother?" Ezran offered, backing off enough to just sit atop the pinned Callum and look down at him.

"I'll always be the superior brother, Ez," Callum smirked, "Just because you surprised me, doesn't mean that you win."

"How so?" Ezran asked curiously. 

Callum twisted beneath his brother, rolling like an alligator. Ezran slipped off his brother's hip and fell to the concrete with a grunt. Callum grasped one of Ezran's bare feet and put it in a lock with his elbow and forearm on one side, and then began to furiously tickle the sole.   
�Ezran's grunt turned to to snorts to chuckles to outright laughter in seconds, seamlessly blending one into the other so it seemed that his raucous laughter had started in the same breath. 

Callum shouted over his brother, "Do you yield?"

Ezran tried to pull away, tried to move. When that failed, he tried to brace the un-grappled foot on Callum and push and squeeze his other foot out from his brother's clutches while he laughed frantically. 

Rayla watched this exchange with increasing amusement, eyebrows climbing.

Finally, Ezran's resistance broke, "I yield! Callum! Stop! I-" Ezran's voice came out in a high pitched squeal, but then cut off abruptly when Callum released him. Ezran sprawled, breaths coming ragged, a massive smile on his face. He caught enough to breathe a sigh of exasperation, then looked at Rayla, "Sorry," he apologized, "Standard greeting."

"That a fact?" She asked, shifting her bag, "Well, maybe you'll get him next time."

"You wear a lot of black." Ezran said simply from the garage floor, "That's cool."

"You can't just say things like that." Callum muttered, just as out of breath, "See, this is why I never bring girls home."

"Aw, c'mon, I bet Rayla finds me endearing." Ezran rocked up to sit up on the floor, ambling to a stand before offering Callum a hand up. Their hand's clapped as the older brother took it and hoisted himself up. Ezran looked over his shoulder at Rayla, smirking broadly "Hey, Rayla, want me tell you embarrassing stories about Callum?!"

"You do that and I change the wifi password." Callum warned through gritted teeth.

"I know the administrator keys," Ezran scoffed with a dismissive expression, "Your rebuttal is weak, like your constitution."

Callum mock winced, slinging his bag out of the car, "Ooooh, except, Oh no! He wouldn't!" Callum laughed as he exaggerated, holding aloft a small padlock with a key dangling from it.

"I don't get it." Rayla interjected.

Ezran's tone was dour, but his face was smirking, "After our last encounter, Callum looked up the size of the hole of the router's power block, and has been threatening to lock it if I was too obnoxious so that my games won't work until he deems that I have earned them back."

"Ooh, that is cold, Callum." Rayla smiled, having to admit a slight amount of respect. To herself, if not to him.

"So, why are you here?" Ezran asked, his attention turning from the raillery to the newcomer. 

"I..." She began, hesitating.

"She's a friend of Claudia's and I from school, she needed a quiet place to study so I offered she come with me."

"Like he said," Rayla answered Ezran. 

"So, what is a Rayla?" His head quirked to the side. 

"Aside from totally B-A?" Rayla flexed, "A Rayla is agile, quick, daring."

"Clumsy at times." Callum interjected, bringing back to mind the entire reason that Rayla was here. 

"Yea, that too." She laughed hesitantly, scratching the hair at the nape of her neck nervously

"Why do you wear so much black?" Ezran didn't stop with the questions.

"Ezran, you can't just ask that. That's twice." Callum whispered into his brother's ear offering an apologetic smile to Rayla. He gripped Ezran's shoulder and pushing him into the house, "C'mon, Rayla, let's figure out some food and then we'll get set up before Lessa gets here."

Ezran obeyed Callum's not gentle shoves, but didn't shut his mouth or forget the topic. Instead he whispered to the side, "What? She's wearing, like, exclusively black." He pointed out, then a little louder, transitioning between talking to Callum, and then to Rayla, "Is she colorblind? Is that why her eyes are purple? And how old are you? Did you grey naturally? At what age did you-"

"Shut it!" Callum shouted, closing the door behind Ezran, shutting Rayla and him out in the garage.

A muffled, "Hey!" came from the other side and the door knob tried to jostle as the younger brother on the other side attempted to open it. 

"I'm sorry for him." Callum looked at Rayla sheepishly, "He'll run out of steam. Eventually."

"Naw, don' worry 'bout it," She shifted her weight, "I don't have a sibling, so it's nice to see. He's fun."

Ezran's voice came from the other side of the heavy door, "You should be nice to me, I'm going to be taller than you one day!"

Callum shouted back without missing a beat, "Well then I am going to milk it until then!" He took a deep sigh, and Rayla had to admit that the splash of crimson embarrassment across his cheeks was absolutely priceless. He wasn't the face cut from stone, ruggedly handsome, that she liked, but she had to admit there was a certain boyish innocence to him that she wasn't unappreciative of.

"You regrettin' I came?" Rayla asked, leaning on the doorframe. She watched Callum mentally wrestle over her presence, her closeness, and what to say next.

"You didn't give me an option," He laughed uneasily, "It's the closest thing to kidnapping that's ever happened to me!"

"What are you two doing out there?" Ezran chided, "If aunt Amaya get's here and finds out you're with a girl behind closed doors, she's going to tell Mo-o-o-o-m!"

Callum flung the door open, face red as a tomato in the incandescent light, Callum seethed, "Enough, Ez!"

"Why are you so flushed? Why are you breathing hard?" Ez laughed back as Bait and Ezran faded down the hall, "Sandwiches?"

"I'm gonna kill him." Callum stated to himself, glaring down the dark expanse beyond the door.

"Sandwiches?" Rayla smirked.

"Ugh, that's a long story," Callum muttered, running an embarrassed hand over his face, "It's his euphemism for…things."

Rayla wrinkled her nose, smiling, "Like? Sexy things? Sexy sandwiches?"

"Let's go inside, right?" Callum said leading the way in and pointedly not answering the question.

Rayla walked in behind the flustered artist into a dark hallway that disappeared further into the house, the picture frames and faces obscured by the shadow in the unlit hall, "No, you have to tell me how this came about! I want to know about the sandwiches!"

"I bet you do!" Ezran's distant voice came.

"Ezran, I'm going to murder you!" Callum shouted into the depths of the house.

Rayla laughed listening to the two verbally fence back and forth. When Callum arrived in the kitchen he made a stomping bee line for his brother, a wild and embarrassed smile on his face, eyes wide with mock fury. Ezran dodged one way, and then another, but in the end Callum caught the back of his shirt and pulled him into a head lock. There were soft punches delivered and elbows thrown with half abandon, but it was the awkward embrace of boys. Insults and acid tones, but at the end of it all they laughed more often than jeered and shoved.

"Alright, you two, knock it off," Rayla separated them both with a laugh of her own. A gentle push on each of their shoulders and the brothers separated easily enough. 

Rayla decidedly didn't let her hand linger momentarily on Callum's shoulder. 

Ezran looked up at her as they all three stood in what Rayla could obviously tell was the kitchen. His eyes squinted quizzically, "She's taller than you." Ezran pointed out.

Callum stood a little straighter, "I know." Try all he might, it did very little and he was only able to close the difference to barely an inch.

"Stronger than you, too." Rayla whispered out of the corner of her mouth, her jab going along with Ezran's smirk.

"I. Know." Callum grumbled at her. 

"Well, as long as the 'Lil King knows who the boss around here is," Rayla shrugged.

"Yea, right," Ezran laughed, "Would our merciful ruler like something to eat or drink?" he called out as he broke away from them, moving towards the fridge for himself.

"I think Mom mentioned ordering something?" Callum scratched absently at the back of his head, "Maybe we can order something edible this time?"

"Like the pineapple, chicken, jalapeno and black beans you had yesterday?" Rayla asked excitedly, "That was delicious."

"Hmmm." Ezran drew out the sound broaching an obnoxious thirty seconds. Laughing at his brother's disgusted face, "I like this girl. Callum." There was a long pause after this in which no one spoke, not wanting to touch the awkward silence. 

Rayla watched Callum visibly fidget. Callum visibly became uneasy with Ezran's eyes continued to be leveled at him, looking between the two uncomfortably. He broke his patience with both Rayla's and Ezran's eyes on him, "What?"

"Don't mess it up." Ezran stated concisely before turning back to the fridge. 

Ezran rummaged in the fridge trying to get something together. His hunt fruitless, Eztran threw his hands into the air in frustration, "Now order me my pizza! Your king demands it."

"Well," Callum added drolly, "A healthy diet, which is what mom would want if she knew you had pizza last night, demands something else."

"Ugh." Rayla and Ezran groaned in unison, causing them to meet each other's gaze from where they stood opposite one another in the expansive kitchen and send a ripple of chuckles moving through them both.

"So what do you want to eat, Rayla?" Ezran offered, "If I can't choose, then she does, she's the guest and she should decide." 

"What, I don't get a say?" Callum asked defensively. 

"Obviously not." Ezran answered without explanation. 

"I don't know," Rayla looked around the kitchen, trying to think what sounded good to her, "Chinese food maybe?"

"I love it," Ezran clapped, "Make it so!"

Callum looked at his brother flatly, "You're feeling very over the top today aren't you." Callum shook his head as he went to a table beside the large split door refrigerator to begin rummaging through a pile of order in menus.

"I am a king in his castle, I should get my way." Ezran offered simply, taking a seat on one of the kitchen island's bar stools. 

"I'd argue with you, but I can't articulate how or why you are wrong other than you're a jerk." Callum retorted through squinted eyes, throwing the suspicious glance over his shoulder while never really stopping his search for the Chinese Food Menu.

Rayla meandered about the kitchen taking a look at the fine wood work and metal piping that made up the décor. There was an expansive island with chairs on one side and a basin kitchen sink on the other separated by a slight change in elevation. A standing fridge with swinging doors on each side and a sliding drawer on the bottom. The rest of the kitchen was a bakers dream with appliances that gleamed for large scale baking adventures, but all of which seemed untouched and unused, or at the very least recently polished or unboxed. 

"Hmm?" Rayla asked, hearing her name out of the din of their conversation. 

"What do you want?" Callum asked again, his voice patient and soft. 

Rayla looked at him, catching those emerald eyes beneath his shaggy brown hair. What she wanted was to feel how soft those locks of hair would be running through her fingers, "Oh, ummm, mongolian vegetables and fried rice?"

"Oh, shit." Ezran squinted at her, but his face never losing that smile that seemed the only constant in the quicksilver child, "You're one of them vegetarians, aren't you."

"Yes." Rayla rolled her eyes, laughing. She crossed her arms defensively, but said proudly, "I am one of them. Though I do eat chicken sometimes."

"So, not a vegan." Callum answered matter-of-factly. 

"How can you tell?" Ezran asked through the side of his mouth in a mock whisper to his brother.

"She hasn't mentioned it yet." Callum answered matching his brother, "And I've known her for like, a whole day. That and she eats chicken. IE not vegan."

"Chicken isn't vegan? Neat-o." Ezran continued with his latest entertainment, "What else do you know about this Rayla?"

"Doesn't do cross fit either. Same logic." Callum offered sagely.

"Interesting." Ezran mused.

"Yes." Callum nodded, stroking his chin.

"You two are a fuckin' riot," Rayla wanted to retort, wanted to argue back, but both assertions were right. She loved cheese. Especially fancy spreads. Additionally she had years of gymnastics training to thank for her toned physique and firm legs, not cross fit. The over zealous raging workouts never seemed to appeal to her. She was perfectly fine leaving her all on the floor and then not sending herself to the hospital due to muscle break down.

"Oh, shit! She swears! Callum, my virgin ears!" Ezran covered his ears in mock distress.

"You are exhaustin' ta keep up wit'." Rayla shook her head, walking over to Callum and saw him putting the order into his phone. She put a little too much thought about how close not to stand, and settled for looking over his shoulder. She didn't intend to, but she couldn't help but catch the scent of him, clean and sharp with a hint of spice, that same intoxicating spice. It wasn't overpowering. In fact, it was nearly faint. 

There was a deep knolling sound. A door bell, but way excessive, and it rung through the kitchen.

"Lessa's here." Callum announced unceremoniously and disappeared after he finished putting the order in and clicking the final submission. He haphazardly threw the menu on a counter he passed on his way to the door. Rayla made to follow, but as she got to the opening, she realized that she didn't know which way to go. Immediately the hallway split out of the kitchen to a forked hallway and a stairwell. Callum hadn't bothered to turn on the lights in the hallway he took, likely knowing the place well enough that he could navigate it without the light assisting him. 

She waited trying to strain her ears to have a little bit of an insight into which way he had gone, but was startled to hear him coming down the steps softly. In one arm he carried a car seat in which there was a blanket over and no sound emanated. 

"What are you going to do with the little nugget?" Rayla asked, offering to take the diaper bag he had slung over one shoulder, "Doesn't look like she'll be much trouble."

"You say that," Callum laughed in a soft voice, "But little Lessa here has a habit of waking up right as you're about to fall asleep or right as you're about to get started doing something."

"So, as long as you don't try anything, she'll sleep all night," Rayla bit her lip as she smiled in the shadows. Bars of light cascaded in and across Callum and herself, leaving heavy shadows. The implication of her words playful and teasing. She ducked her head coyly as her hand tucked a strand of white hair behind her ear. 

Her tone was laden with suggestion, but it seemed to be lost on Callum, who simply stated, "Yea, but I got a lot to do. I have to redraw that picture, and I need to be sure I know my formulas, and…" Callum hung his head defeated. 

Rayla pouted, "Well, it's no fun if you're not going to play." She stepped out of Callum's way as he only offered her a confused glance. Matching his stride and placing an apologetic hand on his shoulder, "I know you have a lot to do, Callum, that's why ahm here. I kno' I was raggin' on ya pretty fierce, but I do feel bad." She let her hand fall, "Ah-I just want to help if I can."

"I wouldn't bother holding your breath," Ezran offered from the kitchen bar, "She's a terror."

"I'll go and get her set up in the guest room and set up the baby monitor," Callum ignored his brother, "Ezran, why don't you take Rayla to the Den. From there you'll be able to see the driver pull up and get the door before he rings the door bell for our food."

"Yeah, sure," Ezran nodded, "Follow me, bonnie lass."

Rayla scoffed, "Bonnie, am I?" and adjusted the strap of her backpack.

Rayla followed Ezran through the high ceilinged hall. They moved in silence and relative quiet as Callum disappeared another direction into the house with his cousin. Once Callum was out of earshot, Ezran spoke, taking Rayla off guard, "So, what exactly are your intentions with my sweet and innocent brother?"

Rayla felt uneasy, she had no intentions. So he had nice hair. Boys could have nice hair without needing her to be infatuated, so could girls. She could compliment a girl's hair and it didn't mean she wanted to run her fingers through it, or kiss her. Or have him kiss her back. Or ponder the way his lips taste.

Rayla cleared her throat, "Why do I have to have intentions?" it came out much more strangled than she would have liked. 

"Oh please," Ezran scoffed, "I'm thirteen, not blind."

Rayla shuffled uncomfortably behind Ezran, "Honest, no intentions."

Ezran looked her over. His eyes were kind like Callum's, but now they were harder. Something about them made her feel he had weighed and measured her with a glance. Not subject to the same flights of fancy as his brother or even other children his age. How could a thirteen year old be so perceptive? 

Whatever. He still didn't get why she was here. She still didn't fully understand why she was here. Guilt was there, and that was it. But if it was just guilt, why introduce herself into a evening at home with his brother? 

Rayla walked in silence for a bit, but finally caved before she asked from behind him, "What makes you so certain I have intentions?"

Ezran smugly grinned, "That's ok, keep your secrets, I'll find out eventually."

"There's no secret!" Rayla growled, annoyed, "If I knew, I'd tell ya!"

Ezran ignored her protests and wound up taking her to a room strewn with objects in such disarray that Rayla was certain it's state was a center of much contention from Callum and Ezran's parents. A large television sat opposite a massive 'U' - shaped leather couch with an ottoman between the three partitions. Behind the couch was a desk and a drafting table. The drafting table was empty of signs of recent use, the pens and pencils sorted and placed in their niches. The desk next to it was definitely Ezran's, his laptop open to a website with black background and white text strewn across it. Beside it was a picture of Callum and Ezran with Bait caught between them. They all looked younger, happier. 

"That's a picture from the summer before Callum's senior year of Highschool." Ezran offered, "Before Mom got her promotion and before Dad and Viren got super busy with all these mergers."

"You guys do look really happy." Rayla nodded, tilting the frame to get a better look beyond the glare. 

"We were, we are. There are absolutely no sources for drama in our life." Ezran nodded suspiciously. The silence dragged on. Ezran coughed, "No reason for strife what so ever."

"Oh, come on!" Rayla laughed, "You can't just say that."

"Say what?" Ezran asked, eyebrows climbing, eyes darting towards the entrance.

"Yea, say what?" Callum asked, joining them.

"That…" Rayla searched, "…um…Raisins are great for concentration."

"Oh," Callum furrowed his brow, slowing his pace to a stop as he entered the room, "Yo-you want some raisins? I bet we have some…"

Rayla laughed nervously, "No, no, it's okay, let's just get set up and get to work. Never know when Lessa is going to be causing trouble!"

Callum went about setting up his sketchpad on the drafting table, "Ezran, do you mind if Rayla uses your desk?" 

"Nah, she's good." Ezran wasn't even paying attention anymore, "Just let me get my laptop."

"What are you reading this time? Naruto fan-fiction?" Callum jested, his voice taking on a mock dramatic pining, he spoke again, "Oh, Naruto, why won't you notice Hinata? She loves you so!"

Ezran paused, holding his laptop defensively, blushing furiously, "…Shut up. It's adorable."

Callum laughed, "We'll just set up and study, you can read whatever."

Rayla moved to set up on Ezran's desk, "Yea, just don't read any sandwich fics."

Ezran's eyes went wide, squinting then darting between the two of them. Ezran's voice was hushed and furtive when he answered, "…They have those?!" 

Rayla, realizing her mistake, had her own eyes go wide, "No…no, no, no, it was a joke!" 

Callum watched Rayla with a weighing glance, "So…what are your fandoms?"

"I feel like that is an extraordinarily personal question and I do not feel comfortable answering it!" Rayla piqued.

"Oh my god," Callum's jaw dropped, "It's probably super embarrassing! Like something totally dorky or something totally inappropriate."

Rayla felt her face flushing, "No! I have no fandoms! I swear!"

Callum leaned in, "It'd be more believable if you just made one up, now you just look like you're lying." Callum waggled his eyebrows, sitting down at the drafting table next to Ezran's desk, "That's okay," he said with a smirk, "Keep your secrets."

"You two are like a walking meme repository." Rayla slumped where she stood, placing a hand over her face, "You're both such massive dorks."

Ezran flopped on the couch, "Thanks!"

Rayla could only shake her head and began taking out her books, Political Finance for the Modern Dictator, Black Market Magic, The Many Follies of the Trump Empire and the American Idiot, and Business Ethics, 15th edition. The thick beasts that weighed a total of what felt like thirty or more, she dropped each one with a resounding thud onto the desk, sighing. 

Rayla could see Callum watching her from the corner of his eye as he set about getting his sketchpad set up and choosing the appropriate pencil.

"So what will you draw?" She asked, seating herself. 

"Well," Callum sighed, grabbing a pencil sharpener and worked on sharpening an already stubby light graphite utensil, "The project was 'make me feel', so I had drawn the skyline of Katolis, made me feel proud."

"Okay, that's super boring." Rayla snorted, taking out her own notebook, flipping open to her notes, arming herself with a myriad of highlighters, yellow, pink, blue, purple, green, and then flipping open the textbook. The binding groaned and cracked revealing unmarred pages. 

"Is that the first time you're opening that textbook?" Callum asked nervously.

"Don't judge me." Rayla bit back, "We're talking about your boring drawing."

"Ugh, fine, I know," Callum cracked his neck, "I don't want to think about it."

"Well I don't want to think about how I'm doomed come Monday," Rayla commented through playfully tight lips, "So, deal with it."

"You could draw me!" Ezran piped up from the couch, "I'm handsome enough to make people…" He paused for emphasis, contorting his face and his voice, "…feel!"

"Well, A) - You're an idiot, and B) - Hell naw." Callum laughed. 

Ezran climbed up onto the couch, dancing to balance on the couch cushions, "Come on, Callum, I'll even pose for you!" 

Bait groaned from the couch by which Ezran's feet attempted to maintain a delicate balance, seeking a position in which he wouldn't reel backwards and began to attempt a number of poses, dabs, coy smiles, flexes showing off a variety of under developed lean muscles.

"I re-iterate," Callum said, leaning back in his chair and placing the eraser of the pencil on his lip, "'Hell. Naw.' Now get to reading your Naruhina fluff and let me work."

"You're no fun," Ezran accused, "Rayla, be warned, he's no fun."

Rayla could only shake her head, speaking flatly, but with a smile on her lips, "Got it, no fun. Him."

Ezran squinted between the two of them and spoke in a threatening voice, "Well, as long as we're all on the same page."

Rayla settled into the chair finding a comfortable way to sit on the chair and turned the textbook to the appropriate chapter, the virgin spine continuing its protests. Placing headphones in her ears she set her phone to play some ambient orchestral music. Her coach, Runaan, had tole her that it was good for focusing. 

Finally, taking highlighter in hand, she began to read.

\----

"Do you think we should wake her up?" Ezran asked, looking up from his fanfiction.

"Maybe when the food gets here." Callum mused, "If she fell asleep that fast then I wouldn't be surprised if the power nap does her good."

\----

"Rayla?" 

"Hmm?" she mumbled softly.

"Rayla, wake up, the foods here." 

Rayla bolted upright, looking around the room frantically. Where was she? What strange place was this? Who was this boy? 

The obscuration of sleep was heavy at first, lifted quickly.

Ezran

Callum

Studying.

Sleeping.

Rayla felt a coolness on her cheek and looked down at her textbook to where a puddle of drool had accumulated, dampening the page and causing it to wrinkle slightly. It was still open the introduction of the first chapter. Embarrassedly, she wiped at her face with the sleeve of her sweater, mentally wincing at the slick of drool there. 

"Ezran?" She managed, "What's going on?"

"Food's here." Ezran said excitedly. He was too much for her, she decided, he needed to tone it down just a hair, especially since she was only just now awakening, "Come on, Callum is setting the table." 

Rayla made to follow, but Ezran pulled her along by the hand. Her feet lazily stumbling into a semblance of a walk behind him. She did notice the rumbling in her belly, the ache of hunger, but it was dulled by the fog of sleep. 

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Callum smiled from behind the table as Rayla and Ezran entered. He was just placing simple paper plates out with paper towels, but there was something different about it. Maybe it was the way he smiled, almost a smirk, when he saw her, maybe the way it made her heart beat in her chest a little harder. Partly the fog of sleep and the resistance to leaving her dream state, but he seemed to radiate warmth even from across the kitchen. 

Maybe the way he had taken time to open all the containers so that there was quick and easy access to food, preventing her from having to wrestle with the white cardboard containers. The array of Chinese food was spread out, vegetable rolls, wontons, rangoons, fried rice, white rice, and a whole multitude of other dishes.

Through her sleepiness, Rayla managed to be astounded, "How much did you guys order?!" 

Ezran grabbed a plate and began shoveling food onto it, "The Big Happy Family Special. Feeds twelve hungry people. Or, in this case, two."

"Who's going to eat this all?" Rayla asked.

Callum and Ezran looked at one another, "Well, we will." Callum answered, "Plus, Mr. King loves Chinese food, he'll eat it for breakfast, lunch, and dinner."

"Yea," Ezran smiled, piling on a helping of crab rangoons to his plate, "He even tells mom that he'd love some Chinese food for desert sometimes!"

Callum winced, rolling his eyes, and shook his head, muttering under his breath. 

Rayla watched the monsters gather their food and plopped down into a chair. 

Callum took and slid an opened box towards Rayla which she looked at through lidded eyes, "Thank you."

"Of course." Callum answered. He was getting together his own plate and gathering ice water for the three of them. She watched him internally fight over where to sit. There were many seats on this long wooden piece of furniture. Ezran sat across from her so his choices were next to her, or next to Ezran, or apart from all of them. Rayla had found herself in the middle of the table so if Callum sat at the head he would be a distance away from them making it hard to have a conversation. 

Interested in where he chose, she watched through the corner of her eye, intently not looking directly at him. 

He finalized his robust plate and made to sit next to Ezran, but then changed direction last second and walked all the way around the table to take a seat next to Rayla.

Courageous little nerd.

This earned him a giant smug smile from Ezran, which she mirrored.

"Shut up." Callum said, fetching a pair of chop sticks and breaking them apart.

Rayla yawned and leaned a heavy arm on the table, taking her own set of chopsticks and breaking them apart one handed. She tried to mirror how Callum and Ezran held them, but their fingers were adept in their use, and she often preferred to use a fork. Her fingers fumbled with the chopsticks and she was able to clumsily bring a strip of green pepper laden with sauce to her mouth. She chewed it happily, having an explosion of bitter sweet flavors across her palate. Rayla munched on happily, and went for another piece.

"You know you're holding those wrong?" Ezran commented from the other side of the table.

"What, no I'm not." Rayla answered, looking between Callum's hand and her hand, "This is exactly the same as what he's doing." 

"No," Callum added around a piece of Mongolian Beef, "You have to use your finger as a pivot point. Like this." Callum held up his hand trying to emphasize opening and closing the chopsticks with one hand, "See?"

Rayla shifted the wooden sticks in her hand and attempted to copy Callum, instead only succeeding in fumbling with the utensils and dropping one on the floor. Rayla looked down at it in tired defeat. In retaliation she stabbed into a pepper with the remaining chop stick. It pierced the pepper with a squelch.

"Aha!" Rayla held the chop stick up triumphantly, only to have the pepper fling off the tip at it's apex and fall onto her lap. 

Rayla glared at it where it landed, "Poops."

Ezran snorted from across the table. 

"Can't I just have a fork?" Rayla whined sleepily, "I just want to stab my food! Why won't you let me stab my food?"

"Because we're being authentic." Callum retorted without missing a beat, "Now, here, let me help." 

Rayla still groggy just let Callum take her arm. He delicately rolled her sleeve up revealing the length of pale skin and moved his chair closer. He turned where he sat so that he faced her, but her right shoulder and back were against him. With his right hand he took hers and she could feel the heat of his skin radiating off of him. 

Over the Chinese food Rayla could pick out the spice like scent of him. Something generic, something boring and unoriginal. Probably Axe or Old Spice or something equally as disgustingly marketed, but that didn't take away the fact that the scent seemed to hone her senses, to clear her mind of the fog of sleep she had wanted to hang onto. 

His left hand cupped her wrist at the base of her right hand.

Goose flesh exploded up her arm, sending a chill with it that she desperately, inexplicably, tried to suppress. Moving her fingers for her, Callum spoke, "Hold these here, these shouldn't move." His fingers were gentle as they positioned her own, making micro adjustments, slight turns in position intently. Next, Callum touched the tip of her chop sticks in her hand, turning them slightly as he rolled them apart a little, "Now these should sit here, and by moving this finger you can move them together to pick up food." His hand on hers he guided her hand across the table. 

"Like this?" Rayla moved her fingers as he had shown her, the two utensils coming together to clutch the shiny vegetable between. She began to pull the slice of pepper away from the plate, but the viscosity of the sauce coupled with the meager force of her chop sticks experience allowed the morsel to slide out of her grip.

Rayla groaned in frustration.

"Close," Callum encouraged, "Try again!" Leading her hand back slowly towards the take out container. His left hand cradled her wrist gently. His hands were softer than they had any right to be. Gentle, padded, with as often as he was drawing she figured they would have calluses or be rough. She didn't know why, but that's what she expected. Still, that didn't stop her thinking about the soft caresses, the delicate touches. Pepper be damned. What would that touch feel like elsewhere? Her lips? Her hips? Her back? Callum was unnecessarily soft and gentle with her.

His right hand settled over the top of hers, thumb on thumb, forefinger on forefinger causing her heart to fall into a frantic rhythm. Rayla squeezed her knees together, shifting slightly. Callum's hands were so warm compared to the cold outside that seemed to be present even inside the large home. 

Callum's eyes intent on the food before Rayla, his voice was hot in her ear, "Now, we pinch the pepper." 

Rayla turned, looking at him as he helped her. 

She hadn't been this close to him before. His hands strong and warm. Tingling fire emanated from his touch and spread over her skin like dry grass.

It was nothing. 

This was nothing. 

Her heartbeat annoyingly in her ears, and looking at Callum with his smooth jaw line, intese focus, and emerald eyes. Rayla licked her lips.

"Perfect!" Callum smiled, as Rayla grabbed the pepper, "Now you just put it in your mouth without dropping it." 

He looked back to her. 

Damn him.

Damn that goofy smile.

Damn that innocent naivety. 

Rayla parted her lips and shifted slightly again, trying to bring the food to her mouth, but only succeeding in bringing Callum closer. 

Callum's hand moved with her. 

Rayla was caught between looking at the food she brought to her mouth and the smiling visage of the sweet scruffy shaggy Callum. 

Slowly, she brought both her and Callum's hand to her mouth. 

Placing the pepper in her mouth she bit into it, covering her mouth with her free hand.

"See," Callum said, encouragement in his voice, "Wasn't that easier?"

Rayla mumbled, looking askance. Her face didn't feel hot, "Yea."

"Alright!" Ezran stood form his spot, "I got to go."

"What?" Callum asked.

"What?! Rayla croaked.

"I just had an idea for a fluff piece for Naruhina," Ezran commented, lifting his plate and taking it with him, "I gotta write it while I remember it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for long hiatus! I hope you enjoyed this little excerpt. If you didn't feel free to tell me why! Or what you did like!

**Author's Note:**

> I always love constructive criticism and comments. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!


End file.
